


It Takes You No Time To Get Here

by chantiemaya



Series: Trixya Drabble / Unfinished Stories [2]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Unfinished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 21:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chantiemaya/pseuds/chantiemaya
Summary: Trixie is overworked, and her friends and business partners send her on a vacation to visit her best friend in the country side.Title comes from the song by Roxette.This story is part of my drabble / unfinished series so I won't continue it!*DISCLAIMER*This is a work of fiction using characters created by others. I do not own these characters, nor did I get official consent from their owners. The only intent of this work is to entertain readers, not to get any type of financial gain. The acts in this story aren’t necessarily condoned by their creators or by me. Read with caution and read the tags.





	It Takes You No Time To Get Here

On the first official day of summer, Trixie Mattel, Esq., was pacing the carpeted floor of her twentieth-floor office with her bare, aching feet, trying to work out the cramps in her toes after wearing high heels all day long. She held her desk phone in her hand, the receiver to her ear,  beads of sweat forming at her temple in spite of the noisy A/C.  
  
“I really don’t know what to tell you, Maureen. We went for the settlement, and we got it. I told you it would-”  
  
She got cut off by Maureen Dubois, her client that got sentenced to fourteen years in jail earlier that week. It seemed to have sunken in only now that she was actually behind bars. Trixie listened and paced,  as far as the phone cord allowed her, back and forth in her office, the grey carpet rough under her feet.  
  
“No, I didn’t… Maureen, listen…” Trixie couldn’t get a word in and her frustration was growing, a hot ball of knots in the pit of her stomach, and she was ready to scream just as her friend and business partner Courtney Act showed up in the doorway, holding up her hands in question. Trixie just shrugged.  
  
“I will visit you on Monday, ok? We can talk about it then. For now, please stay calm, it’s no use getting worked up over this.” Trixie miraculously managed to keep her voice calm and soothing, but after she hung up, she flung the phone across the room, and then knocked a large pile of paperwork off her desk for good measure.  
  
“Trix! Calm down,” Courtney said and started to pick up the mess.  
  
“Sorry,” Trixie mumbled and dropped her body in her desk chair. “Just leave it,” she told Courtney weakly, but she’d already picked up the pile of papers and put them back on the desk. She then picked up the phone and put it back as well, but unplugged the cord.  
  
“I think it’s time you take a break. Alaska agrees with me,” Courtney spoke softly but sternly, leaning her hip against Trixie’s desk and crossing her arms in front of her chest. Trixie scoffed and looked away.  
  
“We’re not joking, Trix,” sounded Alaska Thunder’s lazy, low voice from the doorway. She walked in wearing a sharp, dark blue pant suit, her hair up in a tight bun, purse and document bag slung over one shoulder. “You’ve been pushing it for way too long.”  
  
Trixie sighed deeply, trying to control her shaky breathing.  
  
“What is this, an intervention?” She wanted to sound mean, but her voice was broken and soft. Courtney made everything worse by leaning forward and putting both hands on Trixie’s shoulders, turning her in the swivel chair to look at her.  
  
“We know you care for this company as much as we do, but you don’t have to run yourself into the ground. You have the toughest job around here, and it’s been too long since you’ve had a break.”  
  
Trixie let herself sag forward, her forehead against Courtney’s stomach, and then she was crying, with long, heaving breaths, full on ugly crying against Courtney, who held her and said nothing.  
  
Trixie, Courtney and Alaska all met during an internship at a law firm. One of the first things they bonded over, was the overwhelming representation of old, white males in their field. They all specialized in a different area of law, but it didn’t really matter - all their coworkers, bosses, the bosses’ bosses and even most of the clients were male. They decided to one day start their own firm, hire only women and work only for women, and that’s how Mattel, Act & Thunder was born barely a few years after they all finished Law at Boston University.  
  
It was now nearly ten years ago that Trixie, Courtney and Alaska signed the papers to their own firm, and Trixie couldn’t remember the last time she went on holiday, like, and actual trip somewhere that wasn’t for work, or that wasn’t just adding a day or two after a conference, and one in which she wasn’t sneakily bringing work anyway.  
  
She contemplated this as she drove home, the windows of the car wide open to let in a little breeze, instead of the too cold A/C unit, her sweaty feet now in flip flops on the pedals. Maybe the girls were right. Well, they were. They had gone so far as to find another lawyer who could take over Trixie’s cases when it was needed, and they had told her to take at least a month off work. A month! Trixie couldn’t even fathom what the hell she would be doing for a whole month.  
  
Trixie arrived at her building a little before seven, which was early for her, even on a Friday night. She parked and took the elevator up to her floor. The apartment was silent, dusk settled into the rooms with the last rays of the sun peeking through the blinders. It was silent, and empty, and even though Trixie was proud of her accomplishments and her lush penthouse home, it made her sad.  
  
Her phone dinged then, and she rummaged through her purse before realizing it was in the inner pocket of her suit jacket, which she had slung over the end of a chair at the kitchen table. When she saw who had texted her, emotion was tight in her throat and she felt like she could cry again.  
  
Katya  
Officially summer, bitch! Will this be the one where you actually come over and visit me? I forgot what you look like.  
  
Trixie  
Fuck you, I’m still younger and prettier than you.  
  
But maybe I should. Had a little melt down today.  
  
Trixie opened the refrigerator and took out a can of beer, holding it against each of her warm cheeks before opening it. The first day of summer was warm and humid, and she was way too worked up to deal with it. Her phone vibrated again with another text from Katya, the only college friend Trixie had managed to actually stay in touch with, although not due to her own efforts. Katya had made it a habit to text or call once in a while, out of the blue, and ask how Trixie was doing, and even if there were months between their last contact, they were always good.  
  
Katya:  
I have to see your prettiness before I can assess it. Why a melt down? Work? Love?  
  
Trixie smiled at her phone screen. Katya always made her feel better, just by her presence, and she cherished their friendship, and now felt a little guilty about not talking to her in… she didn’t even know how long. She had never even visited Katya’s new place since she moved from New York City back to Massachusetts, even though Katya invited her over every time they spoke. She said she lived very remotely, very calm, and it would do Trixie good to get away from the city for a while.  
  
Trixie  
Work is all I do, so… I guess that’s my problem. The girls forced me to take a month off. Where are you again?  
  
Katya  
They are good friends, honey. I’m 2 hours drive into the countryside, straight up to the Vermont border. Type ‘cabin, woods’ in your gps.  
  
Trixie  
Idk it gives me anxiety to even think about leaving everything behind  
  
Trixie swallowed the last of her beer and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, ignoring the faint streaks of pink lipstick she left there. She was still in her work clothes, her pale pink blouse buttoned down to expose a cream satin top underneath, and a fuchsia pencil skirt, her legs and feet bare underneath. She hadn’t even sat down since she came in and her back protested when she stuck her head in the fridge for another can. Her phone started vibrating non-stop; Katya.  
  
“Oh my god, is this the actual witch that lives in the woods?” Trixie said in answer.  
  
Katya laughed loudly on the other end and screamed into the phone.  
  
“You bet, bitch! And I’m putting a spell on you, just so you know.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah. To get your ass over here and calm the fuck down. What’s going on, honey?”  
  
Katya’s voice softened now, and Trixie felt her chest constrict. She sighed in an attempt to lighten it, but her voice still came out broken.  
  
“I’m just…” Trixie took a large swig of beer and coughed a little. “I’m just so tired, Katie.”  
  
“Oh, honey, you need a break. You have to allow yourself that, how else can you keep doing your job well?”  
  
Katya’s voice was soft and soothing over the phone, and Trixie sighed again, willing away her tears. She didn’t know why she was so emotional, first at the office and now again while talking to her best friend. She hated feeling anxious, it made her feel weak, it made her remember how high strung she was in college, panic attacks and anxiety ruling her daily life. When her student counselor advised her to take up yoga, Trixie was sceptic at first. She wasn’t into something as slow as yoga, dancing had always been more her thing, and she certainly didn’t have high expectations for the classes at the university gym, which were taught by other students mostly.  But this yoga teacher, with her bright smile, tight body and uplifting good moods, became a light in Trixie’s life, and for a short while, in her bedroom. Trixie dated Katya for a couple of months, until Katya was swept away by an amazing opportunity in New York and Trixie got buried under piles and piles of coursework, and later her internship.  
  
“Tracy?”  
  
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”  
  
“I am always right, honey. You know that.”  
  
Yes, Trixie knew, and she felt her resolve crumbling away.  
  
“Ok, but…” Trixie hesitated.  
  
“Ok, what?”  
  
“If I come over… it won’t be awkward? I mean, I haven’t seen you in…”  
  
“Not since New York, I know. It’s been a couple of years, Trace, but it’s ok. I promise it will be fine.”  
  
A couple of years… it must have been five, at least, when Trixie was in New York for a conference and took some time to visit Katya’s exhibition. She was a painter and sculptor and had immense success in The Big Apple, critics raving over her work and hipsters and celebrities lining up to buy it. Katya was there, they met unexpectedly, and shared a crazy, drunk night, ending up in Katya’s bed. It had been a little awkward, the next morning, when Trixie woke with Katya apologetically asking her to leave because her girlfriend could come over at any moment.  
  
Maybe everyone was right, and Trixie needed a break. Maybe she should just book a flight to the Caribbean, spend some time on a beach with palm trees over her head. But the thought of that made the aching tiredness in her back and legs even worse, and she listened to Katya’s familiar voice as she told her about her little house in the woods.  
  
“Katie, listen,” Trixie interrupted Katya. “I’ll do it, ok?”  
  
“You will?”  
  
“Yes. I’ll drive out tomorrow morning, is that ok?”  
  
“Yes, yes! That is very ok! I can’t wait to see you, honey, honestly.”  
  
Katya sounded excited and it made Trixie smile again, in spite of the heaviness in her body.  
  
“I don’t know, how long… maybe just for the weekend…” Trixie backtracked again.  
  
“Tracy.” Katya sounded stern.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Stay as long as you want. Just bring a pile of clothes and your pretty ass over here and we’ll see, ok?”  
  
“Ok. Thanks, Katie.”  
  
*  
  
Trixie woke early after a restless night, and felt tired and achy still. It was barely seven when she made herself a cup of coffee and regarded the mess in her living room. There were two large overnight bags, clothes piled into them, spilling out, and all over the couch. She wasn’t sure what to bring, as her closet mostly held suits and formal dresses. She found two pairs of shorts and a few summer dresses that still fit her, and exactly one pair of jeans. She folded all the clothes neatly while sipping her coffee, and just packed anything that seemed useful. She kept her toiletries in a bag in her bathroom, which was large enough to share with several people, but all the cupboards were empty because Trixie never unpacked her travel bag. Always ready to go, she thought with a shake of her head.  
  
She managed to sit it out until half past eight, showered, dressed in the only pair of jeans she owned and ready to go. She passed by the doorman on her way out and asked him to keep her mail for her until she returned, and to call her if there was anything going on.  
  
It took Trixie barely two hours to drive to the address Katya had given her, in a small town on the border of Massachusetts and Vermont, but she wasn’t there yet. Katya had written a little description to lead the way, since the GPS didn’t know her actual location.  
  
‘Drive straight through the town, take the bridge over the lake, and drive straight until you see a little pond on the right. Follow the road to the right, until you see a mailbox on the left side, at the end of a white picket fence. Take that left and follow it until the end.’  
  
Trixie nearly missed the mailbox because she was speeding, biting her lip, anxiously looking around, and she took a sudden and sharp turn to the left. The mailbox was obviously not in use, but she was glad she managed to not hit it. She followed the road, the white picket fence to her left, but it stopped after a while. An old, weathered road sign warned her for crossing wild life, and it got darker around her as the road turned to gravel and the trees closed in on her. She slowed down considerably, squinting her eyes at the road, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair.  
  
All of a sudden, the bright sunlight blinded Trixie again, and she shoved her glasses down, and at the same time, her car drove over a much softer surface - grass. She was at the end of the road and hit the breaks abruptly. All around her it was bright green, large trees surrounding her, although not as dense as before. When she shut off her car, it was completely silent around her. She opened the door, a gentle warm breeze welcoming her, and looked around. There was nothing there, just grass up to her knees, large trees and shrubbery, and for a moment she worried she had taken the wrong turn, after all - not that she’d seen any turns for miles.  
  
Then her eyes caught the white picket fence, that picked up again at the end of the road, and disappeared into the shrubbery, where she now saw a narrow path. Her heart skipped a beat and she sighed. She made it.  
  
Trixie hauled her bags over her shoulder and locked her car after making sure there was nothing left in there, then took to the path. It was paved with small, uneven red tiles, and curved to the left, along the tree line, and then see saw it: a tiny, yellow cottage in the middle of the forest. It was surrounded by trees and plants and flowers, growing everywhere they pleased, and had a large shed beside it. The garden wrapped around the whole house, partly filled with flowers, partly with fruit and vegetable plants.  
  
The silence around her was overwhelming, all she heard was a little bird in the distance and a little bee that buzzed by, probably on her way to the flower garden. Trixie nearly jumped when something brushed her leg, and looking down she found a large, orange cat with thick, long fur, butting his head against her shin.  
  
“Oh, hello,” Trixie uttered softly, and the cat meowed at her and purred loudly. She bent down to scratch his head, her fingers disappearing into his soft fur. He wrapped his body around her leg, and then elegantly tripped away into the direction of the house.  
  
The white picket fence was all around the garden, and Trixie found the path to the front door easily.  
  
“Trixie!” Katya’s excited voice came from outside, and Trixie dropped her bags at the doorstep, turning. Katya came from the shed, pushing the top of her dirty overalls down as she hurried over.  
  
“Honey,” she said gently, and wrapped Trixie up in a hug. Katya stood on her tiptoes and Trixie laughed, holding her tight against her. She smelled like fresh air, and flowers, and molding clay. Her blonde hair was up in a big bun on the back of her head.  
  
“I’m so happy you came,” Katya said against Trixie’s neck. Trixie hummed a response, afraid her emotions would get the best of her if she spoke. Katya leaned back then, and pushed Trixie’s curls away from her face.  
  
“You cut your hair,” Katya said with a smile. “You were right, you’re still the prettiest.”  
  
Trixie beamed at Katya, both their smiles big and bright.  
  
“This place, wow.” Trixie rubbed Katya’s bicep, feeling the awkwardness creep up on her, but Katya didn’t seem to be fazed at all.  
  
“Isn’t it nice? Come, I’ll show you around.” Katya took Trixie’s arm and pulled her along to the shed. It was large, more like a barn, and had probably housed animals at one time, but Katya now used it as her studio. It was messy, filled with painting and sculpting supplies, several unfinished paintings up on easels and laying around, and a large piece of clay sitting in the middle of the table.  
  
“Let me just wrap this up,” Katya said and began to cover the clay with plastic wrap. She tidied up, kicked off her boots and pushed her overalls all the way off, revealing cut off jeans and a tank top. Her legs were still toned, although a little softer than Trixie remembered, and definitely more tan. Katya was now barefoot, and tiny next to Trixie in her wedge sandals, tiny and petite and beautiful, and it filled Trixie’s heart with warmth.  
  
They walked through the barn, into a mud room, where Katya hung up her overalls next to a washer and dryer and some piles of laundry, and then from there into the kitchen. It was a large, old-fashioned farm kitchen which Katya had restored and fixed when she moved in. There were some modern appliances, but the stove still ran on gas and the ceramic sink had been there for ages.  
  
There was a table to seat four, with mismatched chairs around it and a large bouquet of wildflowers. There was a little mewl behind them and the orange cat sidled up to Katya’s feet, pressing his face into her.  
  
“Oh, hey, there’s my buddy,” Katya cooed and picked him up. “Have you met Ginger yet?” She rubbed her face into the cat’s fur, cuddling him against her.  
  
“Yes, we met at the gate, he’s so soft.” Trixie scratched his head again, going around his ears, and his purring sounded loudly between them. Katya held him while she showed Trixie around, from the kitchen into the living room, large and bright with one side made up completely of windows, and sliding doors opening into the backyard. Ginger left then, off to chase something in the tree line, and Katya went inside to get them some drinks. Trixie sat down on the wooden lounge set, covered in blankets and soft pillows with intricate patterns. She didn’t doubt that Katya made the pillows, and possibly the bench, too.  
  
Trixie listened to the silence and watched Ginger as he stalked through the high grass, peering intently amongst the trees. A bird passed them overhead, twittering loudly, but the cat wasn’t fazed. He crouched down low, his belly probably on the ground, and wiggled his butt as he got ready to pounce.  
  
Katya appeared then, holding a tray with a pitcher and glasses.  
  
“Some cold lemonade for the lady,” she said as she poured Trixie a glass and handed it to her.  
  
“Let me guess, you made this?” Trixie said as she accepted the glass. The lemonade was made with actual lemons, that much was clear from the flavor.  
  
“Well, yes, I have a lemon tree, I have to do something with them,” Katya said with a grin.  
  
“So you’ve become, like,  a proper homemaker? Have you turned fifty yet?”  
  
Katya pushed at Trixie’s thigh with her bare foot.  
  
“Shut up. I’ve just turned thirty-nine, it’s still a little tender,” Katya said with a frown. Trixie smiled.  
  
“Oh come on, you never cared about your age. I’m going to be thirty-five this year,” Trixie said with a shrug. Katya grinned at her.  
  
“You're not a baby anymore.”  
  
Trixie snorted at that, and kicked off her sandals to put her feet up on the bench.  
  
“I’m not. I’m an actual, grown woman, with a mortgage and my own company.”  
  
Katya regarded her, with pale, blue eyes soft and intent on Trixie’s face.  
  
“You’ve done well, honey, I’m so proud of you.”  
  
They sat in silence for a while, Katya’s feet resting on the table, her toes wiggling from time to time. She had never been able sit still for more than a minute.  
  
“Listen, Kathy,” Trixie said, scooting closer to Katya on the couch and resorting to on of their old nicknames in an attempt to make herself feel less awkward. She took Katya’s hand from where it lay in her lap.  
  
“Thank you for letting me come here, I really appreciate it…”  
  
“But?” Katya said, her face open and a faint smile on her lips. Trixie sighed, shaking her head. She still knew her well. They both did. Katya’s hand squeezed hers. Katya liked touching Trixie, having her close, it felt familiar.  
  
“I just don’t wanna be in your way, or whatever. Just… go do your things.”  
  
Katya laughed out loud, shaking Trixie’s hand in hers up and down.  
  
“What! I mean it!” Trixie laughed with her, although she didn’t get the joke. Katya pulled her feet up on the sofa and leaned closer to Trixie, her head on Trixie’s shoulder.  
  
“Honey, I have nothing to do. I’m retired, didn’t I tell you that?”  
  
Trixie blinked and looked down at her.  
  
“You’re what? You quit?”  
  
Katya shrugged.  
  
“I kinda did. I just make pieces when I feel like it, and that’s not all the time. I made crazy amounts of money in New York, Trace. Obscene. It was ridiculous. So now… I just live off that. I do everything around the house myself, I grow my own food, I have solar panels, I have barely any costs because I paid for the house outright.”  
  
“Outright?” Trixie looked up now.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, my lawyer said I shouldn’t, but I really wanted to. I have no debts, do you know how nice that feels? I don’t owe anybody anything.”  
  
“Wow.” Trixie sighed as Katya’s head sank to her shoulder again, her hair tickling Trixie’s cheek.  
  
“Well, good for you, babe,” Trixie said, and kissed the top of Katya’s head. Katya smiled and closed her eyes.  
  
They sat there for a while longer, talking softly, drinking the cold lemonade, while the sun climbed in the sky and the day got even warmer. Early in the afternoon, Katya announced that they would have a picnic, and she spread out a large afghan on the field at the back of the garden, then walked back and forth from the kitchen twice with arms full of stuff. She spoiled Trixie with a pasta salad, a lettuce salad and fresh bread with cream cheese, and strawberries for dessert.  
  
They talked a lot, but they also had long moments of comfortable silence, and it made Trixie happy to know that their friendship hadn’t changed. They were still comfortable enough in each other’s company to say anything they wanted, or say nothing at all.  
  
They didn’t talk about their night in New York, although it frequently crossed Trixie’s mind. She wondered about Katya’s love life, if there was anyone special, and how she felt about that one night. After it happened, they just kept on with their friendship as normal, and neither mentioned it until the previous night on the phone.  
  
After eating the leftover strawberries, Trixie realized that Katya had fallen asleep on the blanket, flat on her back, head fallen to the side, her hair fanned out behind her. It was much longer than Trixie remembered, and looked soft and thick. She was beautiful, her face relaxed in sleep, not a stitch of makeup on her skin. She had filled out a little, bones no longer sharply outlined, her muscles still defined, but somehow she looked softer. It looked good on her.  
  
Trixie felt heat rise to her cheeks when Katya’s eyes opened and met hers. She’d been ogling her friend, and now she was caught.  
  
“I’m sorry, I fell asleep,” Katya said, her voice a little thick and raspy, and Trixie just smiled.  
  
They brought all the picnic stuff inside and Katya showed Trixie around in the kitchen and told her where to find everything.  
  
“If you wanna, like, prepare us a nice dinner, or something…” Katya let her voice trail off and waited for Trixie’s scoff. They both knew Trixie wasn’t ever going to prepare them dinner - she had never prepared a meal successfully, apart from sandwiches for lunch. When they were together, neither of them could cook, but they also didn’t have any money. So Katya tried to fix simple dishes once in a while, and the other times they just lived off noodles and cheap fries.  
  
“I don’t think I really have to, as you have apparently become a chef,” Trixie said, raising an eyebrow at Katya while drying off a glass bowl.  
  
“Why, thank you, yes, yes I am. I have taken cooking classes, actually.” Katya giggled a little at Trixie’s incredulous face. “I did! When I was in New York I went to a lot of parties, and often saw the same people serving the food, and one of them invited me to take cooking classes with her.”  
  
Katya put away the bowls Trixie had just dried and wiped down the surface of the kitchen counter.  
  
“So I took those classes before I left the city. Because there are no parties here, or fancy restaurants, or even McDonald's.”  
  
Trixie grimaced at that. “And you still like living here…”  
  
Katya laughed. “I do, Tracy. I am actually living in my happy place, all day, every day.”  
  
Katya said she wanted to do some work, and invited Trixie to come with her to the shed, but Trixie decided to take a little nap. The guest room was small and cosy, with a twin bed by the window, a vanity and a single wardrobe. It was a relief to take off her shoes and jeans, and she rubbed the indentation on her stomach where the pants had been a little tight. She hopped into the bed in just her tank top and underwear, and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds floating in through the half-open window. Wind. Birds. Leaves rustling. There weren’t that many sounds, and for a moment Trixie worried that she wouldn’t be able to sleep here - maybe it was too quiet?  
  
Katya hummed along to Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Dreams’ in the radio while pushing her fingers into brown, sticky molding clay. She was happy with the way this piece was going, although she didn’t have a clear idea of the end result. That's what she most loved about her current status as a retired artist; just make what you feel like making, when you feel like it, without any restrictions or deadlines.  
  
While working and listening to music, Katya’s brain ran a mile a minute. It usually did, but creating something distracted her enough to slow it down to a point where she could feel like she was meditating; acknowledge the thoughts, appreciate them, and send them on their merry way. But not today.  
  
Trixie had surprised Katya by actually agreeing to come over. She knew Trixie to be a headstrong, stubborn girl, and she wasn’t one to blindly follow other people’s advice. Even if that person was a really good friend, which was why Courtney Act had given Katya a little nudge after Trixie’s breakdown. Katya and Courtney had never been introduced, but the woman somehow had gotten hold of Katya’s number and texted her, telling her who she was and that their friend needed a break. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe Trixie was finally accepting the fact that Katya was always right, she thought with a grin, but then frowned. Maybe Trixie was really at the end of her wits, much more so than she’d led on with her non-committal answers, sighs and shrugs.  
  
Katya’s stomach started to bother her around seven o’clock, and she looked up in shock. Her piece was nearly finished, but she hadn’t kept track of the time and now she was starving. She hadn’t heard so much as a peep coming from the house, so she went inside quietly after tidying up her work.  
  
Trixie wasn’t in the kitchen or or the living room, or outside, and Katya concluded she had to be sleeping still. She knocked on the door and called out her name softly. When there was no reply, she knocked a little harder and opened the door a little.  
  
“Trixie?”  
  
Trixie was in the bed on her back, one leg sticking out from under the covers, one arm over her face. She groaned a little, smacked her lip. Katya entered the room and smiled at her sleepy friend.  
  
“Honey, have you been sleeping all this time?”  
  
“What?” Trixie’s voice was soft and thick. She pushed an errant curl away from her face and sat up slowly.  
  
“What’s the time?”  
  
“It’s past seven.”  
  
Trixie blinked and rubbed her eyes.  
  
“Seven pm? I slept that long?”  
  
Katya chuckled and couldn’t help but reach out and touch Trixie’s puffy, warm face, tucked her hair behind her ear.  
  
“Yeah, sleeping beauty. You slept all afternoon. Feel better?”  
  
Trixie smiled and nodded. “Super groggy, but good.”  
  
“Good.” Katya nodded and got up from the bed. “I’m gonna make some dinner, ok?”  
  
Trixie sat in the bed, a little dazed, and listened to Katya’s kitchen sounds. She had slept away the afternoon. She hadn’t thought she was that tired, but when she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, she looked very rumpled and exhausted. Her mascara clumped on her lashes and eyeliner-gunk had gathered in the corners of her eyes.  
  
After a quick and refreshing shower, Trixie followed her nose into the kitchen, where Katya had already set the table and was busy with several pans on the stove.  
  
“What’s all this?” Trixie stood beside Katya and leaned over to peer into the pot she was currently stirring something in.  
  
Katya held out her arm and shoved her elbow into Trixie’s ribs.  
  
“Ah-ah! Shoo! You’ll see when it’s done, sit down,” Katya said, trying to shove Trixie out of the way.  
  
Trixie laughed and rolled her eyes, but retreated to the dining table.  
  
“You’re still the bossy one, I see,” Trixie said, settling down in a chair and resting her chin in her hands while Katya took a casserole out of the oven and carried it to the table.  
  
“I am older than you, Tallulah. Don’t forget that.”  
  
“I know. I’ve always liked cougars.” Trixie had to bite her lip to not laugh at her own joke, especially when Katya whipped around from where she was busy at the counter.  
  
She came back to the table with two pans and looked at Trixie sternly.  
  
“For your information, I am not a cougar, Tracy! I am still young and beautiful, thank you very much.”  
  
Katya sat down opposite Trixie, crossing her arms and legs, her nose up in the air like she was above it all, but when Trixie snorted, Katya couldn’t keep it in and also laughed along with her.  
  
“Ok, ok, lets get on with it, you dork,” Katya said and sat up a little to point at the different dishes on the table.  
  
“This is a potato casserole, with lots a creamy, cheesy sauce. These are chicken breasts with some herbs, like rosemary, I baked those in the oven as well, and then here are some green beans and broccoli, I wasn’t sure if you were into veggies at all, so…”  
  
Katya concludes with a wave of her hand and a shrug, and Trixie’s smile is big and beaming.  
  
“This looks amazing! I honestly don’t know how I feel about green beans, but I wanna try everything.”  
  
Trixie held out her plate and Katya loaded some food onto it. They were silent for a moment as they dug in, and Trixie closed her eyes at how good the potato casserole was.  
  
The food was good, Katya blushed with all the compliments Trixie gave her, and then Trixie took it upon herself to clean up. She put the leftovers in little containers, rinsed all the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then wiped down the table, the kitchen counter and the stove, and put on the kettle.  
  
Katya was settled on the couch in the living room, sliding doors open to the garden, when Trixie came in with two steaming mugs of tea. 


End file.
